Giving Up
by ArcherHawkeye
Summary: He paused as he reached the door, fingers brushing the knob and eyes wide, realizing something. He had given up. When he had overheard Dean muttering in his sleep about Cas. Which was over 3 years ago.


**Ello one and all! Soo, I promised my friend Rose I would get this written and posted last year. And I feel horrible for it not getting done before now. DX I hope she loves it anyway. Lol. Here it is! =D And remember guys, REVIEWS = LOVE!**

* * *

><p>Sam really hated when Dean would act like this. It was one of the most frustrating things he could remember from his childhood. To be perfectly honest, it still did its fair share of running him ragged. With a sigh, he plopped on the bed in the hotel room and closed his eyes. He shook his head. For an instant, he wished that Cas was back; just to help him get Dean back on track. That thought didn't last too long, however, as he growled at the thought of how his older brother looked at the angel; even as his vessel was weak and deteriorating. It pissed him off, and he knew the reason why.<p>

He loved Dean. And not in the usual way. It was still hard admitting it to himself as he sat on the bed. Dean was probably out at the bar somewhere, drowning all his tears in a bottle to hide that he was hurting emotionally. That little trait was one handed down from their father. Sam had been there once; after Jessica had died. He'd been all torn up over it, and he had tried to drink the pain and nightmares away. Dean had pulled him out of it, eventually. That one act had ultimately led to his falling for the older Winchester. Or…wait, that was when it had started, right? He couldn't remember when he thought about it hard. There was never a fine line drawn as to when the emotions started building up into something more than familial love. That only worked to further confuse the younger Winchester. Sighing in a mix of defeat and sorrow, both for his unrequited love and for the loss of his friend, he stood up. Maybe he could track his brother down. Maybe it was time to just admit the feelings he'd been forcing aside. That thought terrified Sam, but he knew it was his last resort. What else was he going to do? Just give up? He paused as he reached the door, fingers brushing the knob and eyes wide, realizing something. He had given up. When he had overheard Dean muttering in his sleep about Cas.

Which was over 3 years ago.

The liquid lava that appeared in Sam's eyes made him more volatile as he stormed from the room. Screw this seedy hotel, or hunting ghosts or wasting demons. His brother would never love him the way he loved the now dead angel. Deep down a part of Sam knew that Castiel wasn't dead. Maybe abandoning them; but not dead. Hell, maybe the fallen just needed time to sort through shit until he found a new vessel. He slipped his arms into his jacket; practically marching down the sidewalk; his long tresses bounding a little in the slight breeze of a cool Texas night. He walked by bar after bar; his only focus on getting away from the city and to the beach. Galveston was known for it, and if only he could sit on the bank by the tide, maybe he could figure things out. That's what he'd done the last time he and his brother had been in the city; 15 years ago with John Winchester, their father.

It took about half an hour, but eventually, he found himself on the sand of the beach, staring out at the ocean with bleak eyes. He knew he was only hurting himself by running off, but he didn't really care. All he wanted was quiet. Time to think, to focus, to assess the damage an oblivious angel had done to his hidden emotions. He stood at the edge of the water, staring out as the waves came in. Time seemed to vanish as he watched nature pull the water out and the shove it back in. It vaguely occurred to him that Dean's presence in his life was like the waves. His brother vanished, then returned and vanished again.

The first vanishing act happened when Sam had gone to college, and the first reappearance came when Dean had come back to look for dad. He'd vanished again when he'd been mauled by Lilith's pet Hell Hound, and come back again when Castiel had brought him back. At that time, however, Sam had begun his addiction to demon blood – particularly Ruby's. And Dean had been focused on learning about Cas; the whole angels exist thing had thrown Dean for a huge loop. Then Dean had vanished when Sam had gone with Ruby to fight and kill the head demon bitch. He'd come back last second to help Sam, but to no avail. Lucifer had been set free by Sam's addicted faith in Ruby. He was gone again as Sam agreed to be the Morning Star's vessel, and came back to help fight Lucifer with Sam. Sam, Lucifer rather, had tried to beat Dean to death, with no resistance from the older sibling. Had it not been for one small trinket of why Dean was there, Sam would never have been able to fight back and take the fallen back into the Pit. Down in hell, he'd been without Dean yet again, pained at the torture that Lucifer and Michael could dish out. And for some reason, he'd found himself back out; much like Dean. He'd let Dean appear again as he pulled him back into the life of hunting. And if things went wrong, he'd lose Dean to the alcohol of heartbreak. It all made Sam very angry, sad, confused, and lonely.

It seemed unfair that whatever power controlled the universe would hurt him so much. It almost made him miss the impulsive sex with Ruby. A chuckle escaped him. He knew now that he had used Ruby as much as she'd used him. He had used her to ease the pain of losing the man he loved; she had used him to free Lucifer. He had used her to find out how to beat Lilith, she had used him to prove to Lilith she could win. He tilted his head, wondering if Dean would even care in his self-destructive phase that he was gone. Maybe he'd leave him here for good, not come back, so that he could go off and fight evil on his own. Maybe he should walk out into the cold water of the ocean and forget about his life altogether. Maybe….

"Sam!" a familiar voice called. Sam shook his head. Now he was hearing things. What else could go wrong?

"Damnit, Sam!" the voice yelled as a hand grabbed at his shoulder. Sam flailed to knock the hand away. Whatever ghost had come to torment him would have to kill him, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He fell backwards and found himself lying on the sand without much pain. Blinking, he glanced around and realized that the legs of his pants had sand on them in such a way that he had to have been sitting. When had he sat down? Had he been lost in his own head that long?

"Sammy, look at me!" the voice ordered. Sam, out of habit or just to spite his brother, looked up.

"What the hell do you want, Dean?"he screamed back.

"Do you know what time it is? How worried I was?" Dean yelled down at his brother. He reached out to lay the palm of his hand on the younger's face. "Are you hurt?"

Sam slapped his sibling's arm away, forcing himself not to think about the concerned love in Dean's eyes. "I'm fine except my wounded feelings, Dean. Go away."

"Sammy, talk to me. What's wrong?" Dean showed an uncharacteristically caring side as he knelt beside Sam in the sand. "You can talk to me, man. Seriously."

"Oh, like you talk to me?" Sam mouthed off from his wounded pride. "You haven't said two words to me since Cas died." The shocked, pained and remorseful look in his sibling's eyes was damn near palpable as he sighed and shook his head. "Just go and leave me be. I knew how you felt about him."

"Sammy, I didn't want to make you worry." Dean explained, moving to kneel beside the younger man. "You do that when I talk about what's going on in my head." He shook his own head and reached a hand out to Sam. "I'd say we've got a crapload to sort through, so let me help you up." Sam, reluctant at this point, looked up into willow green eyes and slowly reached out as well and let Dean pull him into a standing position. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel." The younger Winchester wasn't entirely sure if it was his older sibling's tone, or the way he gave that ridiculously handsome smile, but he followed Dean to the Impala and crawled in the passenger seat with no comment. He listened to the radio play some Metallica song; if he was right, which he most likely was having grown up on the band, the song was "Master of Puppets". He watched Dean out of the corner of his eye, not wanting to miss a single moment of the quiet time they had. Which was…odd. Dean usually sang with the meal he played.

"Dean, are you alright?" he inquired.

Dean shrugged. "Not really. We did lose our main defense against things we didn't know about. Not to mention Cas was a damn good friend." He replied. He glanced at the other and gave a smile. "But cheer up, Sammy. It'll get better. We just need some regular cases; no Leviathan crap."

Sam blinked, confused. "Wait…you didn't love him?"

Dean laughed under his breath. "Not like that, Sam, I can assure you." He answered honestly. "It may have looked that way, but trust me, Cas was way too naïve to be with me." He went quiet for a moment, thinking Sam supposed, and then spoke up. "I guess you could say I loved him as a close friend. Cas is one of the only ones I've ever met that actually took our life in full stride and never asked questions."

"Part of that could be that he was a part of our world already, Dean," Sam argued.

"Good point, but Cas wasn't just an angel; he was loyal to us. Free will remember? Until Crowley slunk in and brainwashed him."

Sam nodded. It made sense, because Sam could say that when he looked at it that way, he had loved Castiel as well. It wasn't a love-love like with his brother; maybe more of a cousin/familial love. Like how he loved Bobby. He was pretty much an uncle to the two men, and they would do anything for him. Even jump in front of a not-so-hypothetical bullet. He startled a little as Dean pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. Inside, he was kicking himself. He really needed to pay more attention lately. Losing his focus on his surroundings would get him killed. "So what now? We can't do anything like we're used to."

"It doesn't matter what we're used to. We were trained to be used to change, Sammy." Dean answered. "What we need is some small cases to tide us over until we can solve this whole Leviathan issue." The older Winchester gave a small sigh and opened his door. "Come on."

Sam watched his brother get up and walk to the door to their hotel room. He shook his head once and moved to get out as well, going over to the room and sitting on his bed, staring at the TV the two had left on. Some show was on about high school teens and their drama. Sam hadn't really had any during his high school years; he had never been in a school long enough to have any, if truth be told. He turned his head as Dean sat on the bed beside him.

"Ya know, Sammy. You think too much." Dean said. He handed the younger a beer and leaned back as well, wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders. "But maybe you should be thinking about how much you love me instead of assuming that I loved Cas that way."

Sam wasn't sure if it was the indirect confession, or the tender kiss placed on his cheek, but either way, he was glad he had brought up what he was feeling. To test the waters a little, he curled against the other. When met with no negativity, he moved just enough to look at the other, and the kiss on his lips sent him reeling. He'd been wrong all along. He had never had to look anywhere else; the one he loved had always loved him in return.

_So much for giving up…_


End file.
